Children From A Lesser God
by Wildwood Rose
Summary: Out of his peripheral, he can see his father marching towards him, but his focus is enraptured by the clearing his father created in the crowd. The petite red head girl, sitting amongst anarchy. She must feel his eyes, because she looks up at him, and the first thing Fox notices is how sad she looks. And oddly, how much he wants to take her sadness away.
1. Prologue

_**Children From A Lesser God**_

_**Prologue**_

Fox sighs over loud the commotion going on downstairs, he has a very important history test tomorrow that will contribute 5% of his final grade and he is supposed be studying. But how can he study with all that talk going on downstairs.

He looks at the time.

20:26.

He'll give it ten more minutes, and if things haven't quietened down, he'll go down stairs and have a word with his father.

Putting down his pen, he scrapes the back of the chair from the desk in his room, and walks over to pick up his 10kg dumbbells. Basketball tryouts are this week. Every year he makes Team A, and it's not like he needs a sports scholarship for college, but still, he wouldn't want to mess up his streak.

It's not the first time his father has brought his work home with him. Working for the government, Bill Mulder, quite frequently has diplomats and very influential persons coming in and out of the Mulder household. Fox usually doesn't mind, and quite enjoys the conversation it brings over dinner, plus it's good for his future as far as making connections; his mother is always reminding him that it is not what you know but who you know.

After ten minutes, they're still not quite. He throws the weights back into the corner of the room, it makes a loud banging noise that fright the floorboards, but it doesn't cease the commotion going on downstairs.

Slumping down the stairs, Fox swings by the kitchen to get some milk.

Outside his father's study, the faint commotion he heard upstairs in his room is actually one loud argument, with lots of voices speaking over the other.

He knocks on the door and waits.

He knocks again and waits.

After his third attempt, he gives up on being polite and opens the door, poking his head into the room.

He is greeted by what seem to be a sea of dull coloured suits. Inspecting the faces, most of them he recognises as people he has met before. Whatever they are in a heated discussion about, none of them seem to be in agreement, and none of them seem to be winning.

He smirks, Tony Correolli's fat beefy face is as red as a tomato, as he fights to be heard. He's never really liked that man; he loves the sound of his own voice and eats too much with his mouth open.

"Fox", he hears his father's scolding voice and his eyes widen over being caught.

Out of his peripheral, he can see his father marching towards him, but his focus is to enraptured by the clearing his father has created in the crowd. To the petite red head girl, sitting amongst the anarchy. She must feel his eyes watching his, because she looks up at him, and the first thing Fox notices is how sad she looks. And oddly, the next thing he feels is how much he wants to take that sadness away from her. She's young, very young, younger then he is, and he wonders why she is here.

"Fox", his father says harshly, grabbing him by the shoulder of his Knicks basketball top, "you're not supposed to be in here", he barks, throwing him out of the room, but not before he catches sight of the young girl's very pregnant stomach.

Fox frowns, he must have been mistaken about her age.

_**I know! I'm not supposed to be starting a new story with so many to finish but I couldn't help this one, it has been on my mind for a while, and it's just a itty bitty prologue taster, let me know your thoughts and if you want more.**_


	2. Chapter One

**_Children From A Lesser God_**

**_Chapter One: Curiosity _**

Fox watches the stranger that has taken abode in his house through the crack in the door of what has become over the past two weeks, her room. He knows that it is rude to peep, but since her arrival, save the odd glimpse of her shocking red hair, or her obtrude stomach, he more than occasionally spies whilst watching her and his father exit and enter the house in the later hours of the night, and the small hours in the morning. He doesn't see her.

But he knows that she is in the house.

Just like he knows the richness of her hair, even though there is no light at night to show it. Or the apprehension in her eyes, which are the colour of the sky on a bright spring day. The gentleness of her pale, cloud-like skin. Her bump, even though it is too dark for it to cast a shadow.

He is curious by her.

He had overheard one evening the hushed heated whispers of his parents arguing, his mother forbidding the girl in her house, forbidding her interaction with her son, forbidding the gossip and danger she would bring. This of course had only extended his curiosity.

And he was curious.

He had not known his parents to be at such odds with each other.

And what was this danger that she brought?

Who was she?

What was her name?

How old was she?

… Why was she dangerous?

Her back is to him as she lays on the chaise lounge underneath the bedroom's large bay window. Just staring. He can see the feet of his cat, Queequeg sticking out over the girl's lap. He had wondered where she had been chasing her time. It is funny because she is usually such an outdoor cat and only comes in for food.

His smile looks up to see that the stranger is still staring, and it seems at nothing in particular. It's around seven on a warm September evening, and although it is still light outside, still, she surely had something better to do to occupy her time with?

A pile of reference books lie abandoned on the desk next to her, and Fox decides that she must be an incompetent student and not very bright one at tha-

She sighs and his focus is back on her.

"Fox!" his mother calls from downstairs.

Shit.

The stranger whips her head in his direction whilst Fox quickly backs away from the door.

Shit shit shit.

Running will only draw attention to himself.

Plastering himself against the wall near her door, he prays that she doesn't come out, but he can hear her careful footsteps coming closer to the door. His heartbeat is racing wildly, his breathing erratic.

The door creaks, opening wider. Which he is literally walled right next to. If she opens it a fraction more, she will catch him snooping outside her room.

"Fox!", his mother's voice is closer and the door shuts abruptly.

Fox breathes out a steady sigh relief, waiting a few seconds before he starts edging stealthily towards the stairs.

…

"Fox?" his mother scolds when he comes hurrying down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

"Yeah, Mom?" ambiguous.

"Sarah's here. Didn't you hear me calling you?"

He smiles at the girl waiting at the door.

"Yeah I heard you Mom, but I was in the shithouse", he smiles, knowing how much it will piss his mom off.

"Fox William Mulder!" she protests.

"What? You asked me where I was?" he defends while laughing amusedly at himself, dodging her clip round the ear.

"Honestly Fox", she blushes, her eyes apologetically skimming over to Sarah who is trying to stifle her own amusement, before just dropping her gaze to the floor in shame. Mrs Mulder's hands shake as if she is having an allergic reaction, "I was in the restroom would suffice".

Fox rolls his eyes at Sarah, and a chuckle escapes her lips.

"Sorry Mom", he drones, kissing her on the cheek, "I'll be back by eleven".

…

"Fox", Sarah whispers in his ear, her voice laced with lust. He is sat in the driver's seat of her car, she's straddled over his lap. "Can we please put a light on, I can't see what I am doing".

Fox silences her with a shhh. "No what you're doing is fine", he says quickly. His eyes are fixed on the door, he knows that she and his father will be coming out soon.

"Fooox", Sarah whines in protest again.

"Sarah, my Mom is super vigilant. If we put a light on she'll see".

"We're parked like three houses away from your house"

"She's part of the neighbourhood watch, someone will see and someone will tell her"

She huffs, so Fox distracts her with his hands, stilling when he sees his stranger exit his house.

It is so dark outside, she is merely silhouette moving in the blackness.

The indoor car lights of his father's black Jag illuminates her though, as his father carefully helps her into the car, as if she is as delicate as a China doll. The view of her out here is so much better than from his bay bedroom window. Hardly any noise is made when the passenger door shuts, and Bill Mulder paces quietly to the driver side of the door; the car rolls down the hill before the engine starts.

"What was that?" Sarah asks.

Shit, he had forgotten she was there. Fox may not know who she is but he has overheard enough about his father's work over the years to assume, She must be kept a secret. It was foolish and selfish of him to do this, to expose her and his father like this to Sarah.

"It's nothing", he dismisses, withdrawing from her to get away from her.

"But Fox", Sarah protests as he shuts her car door. "It's not yet eleven".

…

Lying awake in his bed, Fox's mind is on the stranger.

What was her name?

Why was she here?

Why was his father protecting her?

He had thought about the reference books on her desk. He recognises them now, they had been his own from Grade 9. Now a Senior, he didn't think his parents would still have them.

Did this mean _she_ was in Grade 9? Grade 9 _and_ pregnant? Is that even legal?

... And how did her father play into this …?

_'She is putting our family in danger, Bill. I want her out of my house! … Think of your son'_

Fox nibbled his bottom lip in between his teeth.

Or maybe she had just never passed her end of year exams?

Either way, she was incredibly stupid.

Spelling his hand underneath his boxer shorts, he tried to think of Sarah and basketball. Sarah who is beautiful, intelligent and attentive to his need. She didn't bring any trouble to his family either. There was a game at the end of this week, Sarah would be cheerleading for him; he needed to be at his best, especially as he was in Team A. Team A, Fox smiles to himself, there was no chance in hell he wasn't going to be in Team A.

…

_Friday September 27th_

Fox grumbled at his mother when she offered to make him some food when he got in after Sarah dropped him off after the game.

He had played like shit this evening.

He stomps up the stairs, before stopping midway.

His mom had made the effort to watch his game.

"Sorry Mom", he turned to where he knew his mother would be anxiously waiting at the bottom of the stairs, "I just need to sleep tonight off".

"Alright Fox, I love you".

"Love you too, Mom", before storming the remainder of the steps. That was for his father.

The hallway is dark, he's about to barge into his room but his hand stops on the door handle when he sees a beam of light exiting from her room.

That's twice in one week after never having her door open, and he is wondering whether she is doing it on purpose?

Seeing his father's car still parked outside his house when he got in only pissed him off further. His father hardly ever missed any of his games without good reason, and now he, because of her had played shit and his team had lost the game.

He makes his way outside her door.

Putting his eye to the gap, his body does a still jump by what he sees.

She is naked.

Her towel is mounded around her feet so she has obviously just come out of the shower.

But she stands there, stark naked as she rubs circles into her swollen skin.

Her arms distort the profile view of her breasts, but her stomach is round and offensive. She is very petite in size, thin legs and arms, hardly any curves except her stomach … he doesn't know how she is able to stand, the stretched skin looks like it should be too heavy for her.

"Fox"

He jumps at his father's quiet gentle voice next to him.

"I …" How can he explain his blatant staring? His whole body is red like a blushing tomato.

"I think you should be getting to bed, don't you?" his father soothes.

Fox nods, thanking the heavens that his father won't walk past the door and see what he has been looking at.

His father waits for Fox outside his son's bedroom door.

"Dad, who is she?"

"She is someone who needs our help?"

"She doesn't have family who can help her?"

Bill Mulder bites his lip, thinking of the best way to phrase this to his beloved son, that would cause him the least harm.

"She doesn't have family who understand like we do, Son".

Fox nods. He doesn't think he will get anymore from his father. Indeed, he is already retreating to his parents' room at the opposite end of the corridor.

"Dad?"

Bill Mulder stops and turns.

"How old is she?"

"She is 14 years old … Son?"

Fox waits.

"I'm sorry I missed your game".

"That's alright Dad", Fox tries for upbeat, "I understand".

Fox closes the door, flopping straight on his bed. Fourteen years old. His mind has been hung up these last few weeks over a fourteen year old. Fox shakes his head into the pillow, vehemently scolding himself. Next week is a new week, and it will definitely be a new week.

_**Hi guys, thanks for the reviews and expressing your interest. I hope this chapter has piqued your interest even more, let me know your thought and ideas. Until next update!**_


	3. Chapter Two

_**Children From A Lesser God**_

_**Chapter Two: Drive**_

Fox tries to ignore the snickers come from the two boys sat next to him. They are in their IT class, and supposed to be working on coursework which is due next week, designing a computer game. It is an independent project, but Dylan and Slade, jocks on the high school football team, have been goofing around the last forty-five minutes.

He had put headphones on, so to not get distracted. He, as well as the IT teacher, Mr Elodiyen, know that this lesson isn't important for Dylan and Slade. They have already been scouted for college football and only need a C average. Fox, on the other hand, is going to have to work a little bit harder for his fortune and glory.

It's nearing towards the end of the lesson now however, and he can't help but be distracted by their animated overreactions taking place right next to him. Dylan clocks him watching the screen, jibs him in the ribs.

"Dude, you gotta watch it! It's sick!"

Fox looks behind him to make sure Mr Elodiyen isn't watching, he doesn't want to loose extra credit or class participation marks. Leaning in closer to Dylan's computer screen, Slade passes him his headphones and he listens to the re-dub rap music of this guys speech.

The clip ends and he gives Slade back the headphones.

"Isn't it the shit?"

"Sick", Fox agrees, glancing back to see Mr Elodiyen, "better get back to work, before Elodiyen grabs me by my balls", he jokes and they agree.

…

He's sat in Sarah's car outside his house. She is busy prattling on about some celebrity couple, or Africa, or something. She had lost his interest a while ago.

His fingers tap impatiently on her car wheel. "Hey, do you want to see something funny?" he interrupts, desperate to change the subject.

Her shoulders sag disappointedly but she agrees.

He gets out his phone to open the video clip the guys had showed him earlier in IT.

"Stop, Fox", looking down at his phone in disgust, "please don't tell me you're going to show me what I think you're going to show me".

"It's funny", he defends with a chuckle.

"No it's not", she counters, turning to him seriously. "It's deeply offensive", she scoffs revulsion, turning away completely from him in the drivers seat. Her arms cross over her chest in a huff. "I thought you were better than that", she mumbles.

Fox sighs, kicking open the driver's door, slamming it shut before stomping up the pathway to his house, then the stairs to his bedroom. Where he crashes the door shut.

…

The video is still going viral around the school the next day, and Sarah is still ignoring him, so he had to cycle into school.

He doesn't get why she is acting so irately towards him, it is just a video … and it wasn't like it was he who made it or anything. Nonetheless it has caused him so much trouble, he is not surprised when it comes up in his English lesson. His teacher, Mr Almarani, first of all showing the original news clip of the rescue of the kidnapped girls, and then showing the dub mixed version.

"What is the effect?" he asks the class.

"It's funny!" one boy shouts out and receives a few laughs.

"Funny how?"

"I don't know", the boy shrugs dumbly, "it just is".

"I don't know why it is funny, it just is", Mr Almarani repeats dumbly, and the class laugh. "Sarah?" and Fox tenses at the mention of her name, knowing she sits exactly three rows and one column to the left from him.

"Be the examiner for me"

"F minus, sir", she chuckles, "definite F minus".

"Sir, if I may", and Fox's shoulders tense again, but for entirely different reasons.

Doggett.

John Dogett.

If he had one enemy at school it would be him. One of the top three players in the school basketball team, and definite top student in all the classes he has with him. He is always saying something smart, something witty. It seems, wherever he goes, Doggett is there too, and he always has one up on him. Not to mention the fact that he stole the girl he had pined over since Grade 8 the moment he joined in junior year.

"The effect of this video is a rather tragic one, sir - "

Fox rolls his eyes, and starts drumming his pencil against his desk - but not loud enough so he can't hear what he is saying.

" - it has a turned an American hero, who can actually claim that he saved two human beings living in terror under the submissiveness of their oppressor, into the court jester so to speak; and the fact that those have found comedy out of it, quite frankly disgusts me, and makes them all sheep in a tainted flock"

Queue the applause.

Fox turns in his seat to where Doggett's sits, giving in and contributing a clap or two. He watches Sarah's gaze on him, ogling him like he is some sort of Messiah, and he feels like throwing up, or puncturing Doggett's neck with his fountain pen.

"Excellent, Doggett", Mr Almarani praises, "and lovely reference to the politics of the state and Shakespeare … on that note, everyone turn to Act Two of Macbeth".

Fox turns glumly back in his seat. There is nothing Mr Almarani loves more than state bashing and Shakespeare.

…

_Friday 11th October_

It hit Fox hard like a shoe to the back of his skull. Why he found the video so alluring. He couldn't believe it had taken him so long to make the connection, but then again, maybe he preferred not address the nagging thought at the back of his mind. But now it was out in consciousness, it definitely had to be answered now.

Even though he and Sarah had made up - he had publicly scolded a Junior for laughing while she shared the now Senior-trending offensive video with her friend - he walked home after school. He did not want the hassle of trying to make conversation with his girlfriend, pretending to be interested in what she prattled on about, when all he wanted to do was speak to Her. Also because it was actually fourth period he was flunking.

His walk home was more in-between a run and a jog, that he does not stop until he bursts into her room.

Her blue irises look at him wide, with alarm.

Lying on her bed, he has possibly interrupted her sleep and now props herself on what looks like a very uncomfortable twisted elbow.

"Fox?" Teena Mulder's voice called from the bottom of the stairs. "… Fox? Is that you?" she was making her way up onto the landing.

But their eyes do not disconnect.

"Fox?" his mother opens his bedroom door further down the corridor.

He puts his finger to his lips, and her eyebrows rise animatedly as he walks towards her before ducking under her bed.

He realises a bit of his trainer is sticking out of the white frilly bed skirting too late, but he can't do anything about it as he can hear his mother's footsteps stop outside the bedroom door. Drawing in his foot will only make him more known.

"… Is it only you in here?" his mothers voice asks sternly. " … I thought I heard voices?"

The girl stays silent.

"…OK…", his mother resigns, "it must have been the wind", she tuts.

Fox stays under her bed until she hears his mother's footsteps reach the bottom of the stairs, and the front door close.

He rolls out, quietly rising into a standing position, recomposing his stature of authority, while she tries to little herself as much a possible, drawing herself into the corner as best as she can with her large protruding bump.

Her eyes are frightened, but any words of kindness and assurance die on his tongue.

"Are you being kept here against your will?" Fox demands.

Her eyes widen, but makes no indication of response.

"Are you being held here against your will?" he asks again, using actions this time. Perhaps she doesn't speak English.

Dropping to sit at the edge of her bed, the pulse vein that cords down her neck and along her collar bone, pulsates widely. Her lips trembling without words coming out.

He can visibly see that she fears him, but instead of increasing their distance, he does the opposite, pulling in even closer to her. His hand grabs a naked ankle, and he grasps it tightly. If it hurt her, she didn't show any indication.

"If you are being held here against your will, you have to tell me", his desperation almost turn to cries.

She frowns curiously at him, but shakes her head, and Fox's whole body sighs in relief. Not that he ever thought that his father would be capable of it, but he couldn't stand the idea that his father might be … using her. That the thing growing inside of her was in fact his sibling.

He releases his grip on her and stands up. His head falling back as if he has been redeemed of a charged crime he did not commit.

…

_Sunday 13th October_

Fox turned eighteen today. At 09:04 this morning to be precise. His mother had rehashed his birth over breakfast as he had shovelled birthday pancakes, syrup and bacon, trying to listen to as little as possible, whilst trying to sound as interested as possible. It was just the two of them at breakfast, but his father should be joining them in the evening.

Sarah joined them in the evening too. They were supposed to go out for dinner, but his father insisted they couldn't. Sarah was polite as ever, arriving dressed up for a five star restaurant and instead dined in the Mulder dining room. And although Teena Mulder's cooking is of class, a three course meal whipped up in anger does not compare. Added to that, there were the two very obvious black eyes and split lip Bill Mulder was sporting.

The meal only lasted an hour and half, and the conversation was mostly held by Fox and Sarah, whilst Mr Mulder pretended to be interested in their conversation, and Mrs Mulder shot daggers at her husband.

When another prolonged silence hung over the party of four, Sarah announced that she should be getting home even though it was only eight thirty. She reached into her purse to retrieve her phone, when his father threw a set of keys into his son's hands.

"Happy Birthday, Son", Mr Mulder smiles.

…

Fox returned from dropping Sarah off an hour later. His parents were still arguing and if they heard him come in, they didn't acknowledge it.

At around eleven thirty in the evening, he waltzed down the stairs in his T and boxers to cut another slice of his birthday cake.

The door to his father's study is slightly ajar and he can see his father set up a bed on the couch.

He hesitates.

"Dad", he knocks on the wood, straightening his new Knicks shirt that Sarah bought him for his birthday.

"Come in, Son".

"Thanks for the car, Dad", Fox smiles nervously.

His father perched at the end of the couch, staring at his upturned palms. "That's OK. You deserve it. You're a good boy, Fox", turning a pained smile to his son.

Fox swallows the frog in his throat.

"...Wh, what happened to your face, Dad?"

"Just a small disagreement at work, it's fine, Son", he smiles.

Fox fidgets. His father works for the government. He works in international negotiation and defence. There is no reason why he should be coming home with two black eyes and split lip.

"Da - "

"It's fine, Son", he insists. "What are you doing downstairs anyway?"

"Came for another slice of Mom's cake… Do you want some?"

"I'm OK, Son. Happy Birthday"

Fox hesitates for a while longer, but his father doesn't say anymore. Conversation over.

He consumes two slices of cake downstairs and then takes one upstairs with him to eat whilst in bed.

The light is Her room is on however.

Knocking lightly on the door, he opens the door into her bedroom. She obviously didn't hear as she is stood in the middle of the room admiring her bump in the full length mirror. The white nightgown that she wears is basically translucent in the full watt light. Too big for her small frame, it highlights her profile. The sharpness of her collar bone, the small curve of her breast, her swollen stomach, tenting over her slim legs.

She turns suddenly, jumping when she catches his stare on her.

But he can't look away immediately, his eyes thirsty, drink in the sight of her.

She becomes self conscious of his watch and shrinks herself into the study chair where some of his Grade 9 books lie open.

"I brought you some cake", he clears his throat, producing the slice from behind his back. He walks into the room and lays it on the desk in front of her. "It was my birthday today".

Her mouth twitches, her eyes widening at this, but in the end she turns away from him.

Her hair is cropped very short. The last time he saw her, it curled around her breast. Now it curls around her ears.

"You've cut your hair", he observes, and her hands defensively go to stroke the short ends. Although at an angle, he can see her face break out in what Fox fears will be tears, but whatever emotions she is fighting, she manages to keep at bay.

"Midsummers Night Dream", he indicates to one of the books she has opened. "William Shakespeare. The Bard. He's an English poet and writer. Wrote many plays and sonnets. This is just one of them. I imagine you're finding the language difficult".

She stays still and silent.

Fox sighs, "anyway, enjoy the cake", exiting the room.

"Happy Birthday", he hears her quiet whisper just as he closes the door.

Her voice is like the angels.

…

Fox is woken up by the heavy pushes against his shoulder.

Blinking his eyes open into the darkness, he recognises his father's voice.

"Dad?" he asks, blurry.

"Fox, there isn't much time to explain. But you need to leave. You need to leave with the girl and get her far away from here. Get up. You have five minutes to get dressed and pack a bag. No phone. Nothing that you already own that can be tracked. Take your cards and passport, but under no circumstance use them".

Fox frowns at his father's distressed face.

"Fox, move!" he snaps.

Fox shoots up out of bed, "but, what about -"

"Move!"

…

The girl sits in the backseat of his new car. Her eyes are wide and frightened. Just like Foxs'.

"Now Son", Bill Mulder hangs over the wound-down driver window. "Remember what I said?"

"Drive"

Mr Mulder nods, tapping his son's face affectionately.

"But why Dad?"

Mr Mulder sighs, "Son, she is very important. Her baby is very important, and there are people who will stop at nothing to get it. They can't do that"

Fox's eyes widen, the enormity of the situation, combined with tiredness and fear hitting him again. "Dad", he chokes, "can't you come with me?"

Mr Mulder shakes his head. "I need to stay here, Son. I would take her myself but you are closer in age. Less questions will be asked if you are the one that takes her"

"But where do I take her, Dad?!" Fox snaps.

"Somewhere safe"

"Where is that?!" he bashes she steering wheel in frustration.

His father rests a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Calm down, Son"

"I can't calm down, Dad", he scratches the back of his head wildly. "I don't know what to do. You haven't told me anything. I ca - I can't do this"

"Yes you can, because you are my son. I trust you and everyday you make me so proud. Keep a low profile. Keep her safe. If you must call me, you have that cell, but only if it is an absolute emergency", he insists sternly. "I will call you. Now go. Drive".

_**A/N: Ooo the chapters are getting longer. I can't help it. Until next update!**_


	4. Chapter Three

**_Children From A Lesser God_**

**_Chapter Three: Ignition_**

_Drive._

That was the only instruction his father had left him with. Drive. His body is rigid in a sickly cool-heat, arms trepid, firmly outstretched in front of him. Drive. Slick hands fighting to grip. Drive. Nails trying to dig for comfort into the un-supple plastic of the steering wheel. Drive. Drive. _Drive_. Fox's heart is still, beating a hundred miles an hour. He must be driving the same, he guesses, as the moonlit scenery whiplashes past him. Drive. But where is he driving? His father did not specify, just drive. He is in control, he assures himself. But then all of a sudden, his car zigzags across the scenery, spins and then just stops.

Fox can feel the beat of his heart now. The sweat dripping off his brow. It soaks the underarms of his t-shirt.

The engine stopped.

He frowns incredulously at the dials in front of him. Why did the engine stop? The milage on zero, the tank on full.

His ears prick as he registers the short desperate breaths coming from behind him. His gaze shoot up into the eyes of his rear view mirror, but all he sees is darkness. Shakily, a hand disengages from the steering wheel to look for the switch to the back light he knows must be somewhere above his head. But his hand blindly searches. Fox's frustration at himself increasing every second. He can't see it. He cannot feel it. Only darkness. It was foolish of his father to trust him. Foolish of him to buy him this god-damn car that has no automatic inside lights. That has no back light switch!

He curses, and the breathing in the back stops.

"I'm just trying to find the light switch", he mutters. He hadn't meant to scare her. "This car is a piece of junk", his other hand still firmly gripped on the steering wheel, he searches the switches near the steering wheel. He also only just registers the throbbing pain up his left leg, peering down at it in the darkness. It's slammed down on the break peddle.

He wants to cry. He has an overwhelming urge to cry. He can already feel the tears brimming.

He curses again, loudly. Slamming his head on the steering wheel so that the horn makes a loud noise, and the feeling of given himself concussion.

He's an idiot. Which makes his father a bigger idiot. He comes from a long line of idiots that only get worse as the generations continue.

He moves his head to the side to try and release some of the pain, but it only makes it worse. His mother was right. This girl is forbidded trouble. And why? What is she to them? What is she to him? He is his finals, basketball, college applications and Sarah. Not an underaged girl that got knocked up by her idiot boyfriend.

She is still silent in the back.

Fox re-adjusts his head again. Just how long does his father want him to keep drivi-

car.

His thought process stops at the sound of her voice. Angelic.

Car.

It sounds again.

Car! Car! Car!

It shrills, and Fox snaps his head up to the impeding full beam car headlights. Horn blazing. But its like he has forgotten how to function. His foot has lifted off the break and the car is rolling backwards.

The approaching car lights are getting closer, but his hands are no longer anywhere near the steering wheel or the ignition keys. They are in front of his body in surrender. Surrender to his inability.

He screws his eyes shut, but the light still blinds him, until it's gone and the car jostles semi-violently as the back hits something. And then he is back in his silent dark scenery, with the short desperate breaths coming behind him.

Air. He needs air. He tries the driver door and it opens for him. Only in jeans and a t-shirt he darts out into the cool night and into the heavy foliage that greets him.

…

Fox purposefully scuffs his shoes as he runs down the dirt track. Greenfield National Park. Not even five miles away from his house. That's how far he had driven before he had lost control. His head violently shakes in disgust at himself. And whats worse, it's his local stomping ground. He knows this place like the back of his hand. If anyone who remotely knew him or any teenager around his age that had gone missing, this would definitely be the first place anyone would look after their own house. He was running out of insults for himself, but had seen the shimmering light of the lake reflecting the moon and knew that there was nothing he wanted more. His body was stiflingly hot but at the same time bone chillingly cool. His body was still but also shaking. And his mind, his mind didn't know who or what it was.

…

Rushing back through the trees to where he had left the car. His body was energised from the cold water that drenched his body, his sneakers squelched as they hopped eagerly over rocks and twists of roots. He had decided he was going to call his father and call this whole escapade off. That his father would have to find another son to do his dirty work because it wasn't him. He was basketball, finals -

He stopped dead at the other car parked near his abandoned one. Police car. The headlights were full and showed the shimmering silhouette of the officer, his torch trying to peer into the back of the car.

Something tugged in the bottom of his stomach. His father had also told him to keep her safe. He didn't like how the officer prowled at the back passenger window, trying to prise his gaze through the blacked out window. He watched the officer do a 360 before his hand moved towards the door handle. Fox's body lurched even though the door must have been locked because the office was now starting to move towards the driver door.

"Hey!" Fox shouted, running erratically to the clearing towards the car.

Before the torch could be shone on him, he could see that he had driven his car into the back of a tree.

"Son", the officer regarded him.

Fox's chest was heaving with un-warrented rage. So much he couldn't speak. He didn't want the officer to see her. He didn't want an eye to look upon her and her bump.

"Is this your car?" the officer spoke for him.

Fox nodded, "…yes! … Sir"

"Well Son, it's been driven into the back of the tree", he said, and Fox could detect humour in his voice.

"I know", is all Fox replied.

The torch searched him up and down.

"Do you have a licence?" the officer asked and Fox nodded. It was true. He had. But he also remembered his father telling him to keep a low profile.

"Well, can I see it?"

Fox nodded and sighed. He walked round to the other side of the car and opened the back passenger door. The light from outside flooded into the back of the car and he was met by her wide alarmed azul eyes. Her chest was puffing as the short desperate breaths escaped her small mouth. A stab of guilt hit Fox's heart, and he put his finger to his lips, telling her to be quite. Closing the door, he pulled out his wallet to show the officer his ID. He had screwed up keeping a low profile of himself but he wasn't about to expose her. Did she even have ID … he didn't know.

The officer studied his identification for a long time, before he sighed in defeat. He flipped the card over and over in his hand before he spoke. "How do you explain the car? Have you been drinking?"

"No Sir, this other car was going too fast and ran me off the road-"

"-Smoking"

"No Sir… like I told you-"

"Where are you driving?"

"Home"

"Your home is that a way", he pointed in the opposite direction.

"Like I told you officer, I was-"

"Yeah you were run off the road", the officer finishes and then sighs. "What is a kid your age out this late in the evening. It's close to three in the morning. You've got school tomorrow. Do your parents know? You selling pot?"

"No Sir I'm not selling pot, and yes my parents do know I am out"

The officer shakes his head, "I'm gonna search your car"

"Please Sir-", but the office stopped him with a stare that told him he had better do what he said.

"Who's this?" the officer asked as he shone the light on the girl's face.

Fox stared at her incredulously, he didn't know who she was. And by the way she stared dependently up at him, it seemed like she didn't either.

"Is this your girlfriend?"

"No", Fox answered too quickly, although it would have made more sense if he had said yes. The officer's torch zeroed in on her pregnant stomach, until both teenagers gazes dropped. The officer shone the light back into his eyes.

"Are you sure she isn't your girlfriend?" he interrogated.

"Yes". Sarah was his girlfriend. Sarah who came with basketball, finals and college applications. "She's my … cousin. She is staying with us".

"Does your cousin have a name?" the officer drawled.

Fox tried to laugh, "of course she does, she's just really shaken up from the accident, we both are"

"Why are you wet?" the officer's torch inspected him again.

"Ex-excuse me Sir?"

"Why are you wet?"

"I, I, I was in the lake?"

"You were in the lake?" the officer repeated.

…

They sit in the local police station. The officer is trying to contact Fox's parents but it seems no one is picking up. Although this does worry Fox what worries him more is what his father said. Drive, keep a low profile, keep her safe. And as the phone rings longer and the officer's eyes become more impatient at them; without knowing exactly why, Fox realises more and more, that he needs to do those three things.

His hand absently finds hers and holds it. She accepts it by a fraction, and when he squeezes, she grips, not letting it go. He gets his cell phone out with his other hand and the officer raises his eyebrows.

"I'm going to try my dad's cell", he lies as he dials the number of a taxi service, pressing the option of the cab picking it up from the cell's current location.

"Don't worry", Fox whispers, "I'm going to get you out of here".

"Nothing", he shrugs to the officer and the officer rolls his eyes.

…

The vibrations coming from Fox's pocket to say that the taxi was waiting for them could not have come at a better time. The officer's and the other staffs' attention currently taken up by the drunk's nosebleed and fire to strike Fox where he sat. Because the drunk had tried to touch Her, making inappropriate and crude comments about what he would like to do to her. Jaw already clenched and teeth already grinding at his un-salubrious words, Fox had tripped the drunks footing, landing him face front, with a pool of blood seeping from his nose and broken tooth.

Her eyes were wide and horrified as they continued to stare at the blood that still pooled near their feet. But her hand continued to latch on to his like it was a life line, and this filled Fox's heart and lungs with something he couldn't quite name but it was threatening to combust. Detaching his gaze from her expression, he stared at their linked hands before giving it an encouraging squeeze. Her eyes blinked at him, full of unshed fear and tears. He cocked his head in the direction of the door, and with one more look over his shoulder, he slung their bags over it, and escorted her towards the waiting taxi.

Settled back in his car, and using his only twenty to pay for the taxi. Fox didn't know what he was going to do if the car didn't ignite.

**_A/N I'm sort of back, sorry for my absence and thank-you for your patience. Decided to start small with COALG as to ease myself into writing again.  
In another note, this was brought to my attention last chapter, but for those of you who perhaps think The Nanny Files has been lost, it is still going! It's just I had to change the rating to M, so it isn't in the default search engine. If you click on my pen name it will show you the link :)_**


	5. Chapter Four

_**Children From A Lesser God**_

**_Chapter Four: Control_**

The car of course did not start. Fox couldn't be that lucky. The cab driver however took pity on him and said he would drive them home for no extra cost.

Fox weighed up his limited options.

Go home. What would his father say? He told Fox to drive at all cost. To keep the girl safe. He hadn't done any of those so far. Going home after not even a few hours, his father would ...

But he couldn't exactly drive when his car wouldn't allow him to. They were sitting ducks stranded here. He had no cash, but had a card, which was only to be used in an emergency.

Did this qualify as an emergency?

Could he even trust this guy?

Did he have any choice? Five miles home would be a ball ache to walk but he was pretty sure _she_ couldn't even walk ten steps with her belly so full.

Fox needed the cab driver. He didn't see any choice but to trust him.

...

The cab, pulling up to his house, it was exactly how it was supposed to look like in the middle of the night. Quiet darkened street, no activity, no sound except the hum of the engine. The curtains to the house were all drawn shut, and the lights all off; and Fox started to wonder maybe he could do this without his father knowing, or at the very least, without waking him up.

Opening the passenger door onto the curb, he realised his father's car was no longer on the street like it usually is. It didn't mean anything though, he probably parked it in the garage soon after they left. Fox thanked the driver, sparing a glance to make sure the girl had gotten out too, before treading cautiously up the driveway. Antsy butterflies swarmed around in his stomach, his heart was heavy and he was mentally preparing himself. His father was going to be so disappointed in him. He was sure his father knew, somehow his father would know.

It wasn't until he reached the front door, did he realise he didn't have the keys to his house. Fox flung his head back in despair. Could anything else go wrong with this evening?!

He could knock.

He glanced at his wrist watch.

03:47

Was his father in bed or was he waiting the other side of the door for him to knock?

Remembering the girl again, he turned in the direction of the driveway, only to find her directly behind him with the back of his t-shirt crunched in her hand.

Was she nervous?

She found _him _comforting?

Sure she had been with them for over a month, but ... they have hardly interacted with each other. He doesn't even know her name! Not that he wants to, 'girl' will suffice.

He feels her slowly untangle her grip, obviously taking his silence the wrong way.

Or has she?

Fox doesn't know exactly on the scale of 1 - 10 how he actually feels about her. One feels too harsh.

"We're not going to be long", he supplies. "Ten minutes the most, but if you need to - I don't know - pick up anything else from your room, you can. OK?" He knows he definitely needs to pack more layers. He's still wet from his rendezvous in the lake. What was even going through his head then? How could have he crashed the brand new car his father had given him only yesterday. He was supposed to be eighteen years old. He was a man now, no longer a kid to make silly mistakes. He needed to exercise more power and control - maybe he has time for a shower?

The girl hasn't said anything. Not that he finds _that_ surprising. It's too dark to read facial expressions. But she definitely speaks and understands American._ Whatever_. He shrugs internally. "Just wait here. I need to get the spare key", because he does still have a duty to her. But when he moves, she follows with him. She's attached _both_ her hands to his arm.

Why is she so scared? Is this a fourteen year old girl thing? "What's wrong?!" he exasperates.

She's silent.

"I know you can speak. So you can stop with that bullshit"

But she is _still_ silent and she_ still_ doesn't _let go of her grip. _Her nails are something to be reckoned with.

Well that's a lie, she's not silent - she is sniffling now.

Fox rolls his eyes, great - he has made the little girl cry. "Just keep close", with the arm she doesn't have a hold on, he pries one of her hands in his and leads her to the garage.

...

Putting in the garage lock combination, he cringes at how much noise it makes. There was no way that went unheard. Closing it immediately once they are inside, as he has firmly decided on his decision to have a shower. His father waking up be damned.

The garage flooded with auto-light, Fox has what must be his twentieth surprise of the night.

The garage is empty.

His mother's car hasn't been here since August because his sister, Sam, wrote off her car _again, _and 'borrowed' it for her drive back up to Massachusetts for school. But she is in some country in Africa at the moment that Fox forgets and his mom continuously reminds him, beginning with M ... maybe Mozambique - But most importantly - _his father's car_.

His father's black Jag is also _not_ there.

Which must mean ... that he isn't here either.

Wordlessly, Fox walks them through his house and to his parent's bedroom. Not even trying to be quiet, his mom sleeps like the dead an - But it's empty.

_What?_

Where are his parents? Where would they go without him? Without _him_ knowing? Did something happen? Was something wrong with Sam? ...His grandmother _was_ reaching ninety.

He turns around, colliding with something he bounces off.

Her bump he realises. His cheeks heat instantly. "Sorry", he mumbles. "MOM. DAD", cheeks still flaming. There is no response.

He checks their bathroom.

Empty.

He shags the back of his hair.

Where could have they go-

\- He jumps a mile at the loud knock, and she lets out a squeak.

It originates from downstairs.

_The front door._

_Who is knocking on his door at 4am in the morning?!_

It bangs again, and her grip cuts off the circulation in his hand.

But then it's quiet for a good minute.

He breathes out a long breath.

_THANK GOD_ he shut the garage behind him!

"Let's be quick", he says, pulling them in the direction of his room.

In his bedroom, he forces her hand off of his so that he can take the rucksacks filled with their rushed possessions off.

Riffling quickly through his top draw, he gets the bunch of billed notes he keeps saved in his socks, before putting the whole of his coin Ham piggy bank in his rucksack. He then grabs a few of his hoodies out of his wardrobe.

"Here", he throws one to her, "put this on", stuffing the third one in her bag.

He's zipping up his hoodie, when it becomes combined with another foreign noise.

_The front door again!_

"-said he saw activity".

Fox strains his ears, trying to recognise the voice, but it is not his father.

"The license number from the car is a local taxi service. There is someone tracking it down as we speak". English. That voice was definitely English.

"They're fairly certain it was Bill's boy and the girl that entered the house. _I'll_ check upstairs. You check down".

Fox's whole body had broken out into a cold sweat. And it wasn't until he _heard_ footsteps coming up the stairs did he think to move, as his bedroom was the closest to the stairs.

Not only that, he had left the door_ open and the light on_!

Throwing his duvet over their bags, he rushed for under his bed, but a hand grabbed him, pulling him into the wardrobe.

In the wardrobe, they stood on opposite ends, arranging himself behind hung clothes.

The wardrobe door opened slightly from their movement. Fox was going to grab it shut, when he heard the footsteps _outside_ his bedroom.

Willing his breathing to slow down and quieten, he slowly retracted his hand.

The footsteps walked quietly into the room.

"This wasn't how I left you", the voice speaks. American. Masculine. Not young. "Fox".

_He knew his name._

The footsteps walked further into the room.

Through the slither of opening, Fox saw the person kneel to look under the bed.

She had been right.

"Charles", the English voice. "The back door is open. They're probably outside again".

"No guess what it was that alerted them", he grits, before sighing. "They were in here though", the figure standing up. "Why? Why did they come back? What did they forget?"

Fox was too busy trying to decipher out the voices, before he realised that there were footsteps right outside the wardrobe.

The girls voice inhaled sharply, in an almost cry.

His side of the wardrobe door opened and the face looked directly at where he was hiding. It paused. Moving some of the clothes. Fox closed his eyes tight when he felt his face become exposed.

"Empty", the voice said, closing the door properly.

Fox blinked his eyes, not believing the words.

"We'll keep them monitoring the front of the house", the voices and footsteps were retreating, but all Fox could think was that there was _noway_ that English dude didn't see him.

Why?

Was he protecting him them?

From what?

From who?

Most importantly, _why_?

_'Son she is very important. _

_Her baby is very important._

_There are people who will stop at nothing to get them._

_That can't happen'._

...

Fox waited until he heard the front door had closed again before climbing out of the wardrobe.

He helped her out before turning on her. "Who are you?" he asks, gripping her arm, just as tightly as she had to him.

They were here for her.

They had to be.

All the commotion when she had first arrived. ...His father's black eyes. "_Why_ are they looking for you?"

But she is silent.

Her eyes wide.

Frightened.

He can see her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

If the circumstances were different, he would have sympathised.

He pushes her against the wardrobe, no longer caring about her bump. "Who. Are. You?" enunciating each word. "Where are my parents?"

"I don't know. Please, I don't know anything. One moment I was at school and everything was fine. The next moment there was this", his face is pressed so close to hers, he can see the red veins tarring her white orbs as her voice becomes more and more hysterical and her eyes crumple into tears. "And, and, and then they took my father. My brothers. There were so many people. I tried to tell them it wasn't them but no one would believe me", and the rest he cannot make sense of as she erupts into sobs.

"OK, OK, OK", he says, moving away from her, registering his headache. But her hands are gripped to him again. This time the pockets of his hoodie. "You don't have to do that you know!" he snaps. "I'm not going to leave you!"

"...Everyone else has", she squeaks, and her voice still sounds like the angels.

"What's your name?" much softer.

She gasps, her eyes widening.

"You don't know your name?" Dryly.

"Your father told me not to tell anyone my name, but ...", she bites her bottom lip.

"Don't tell me then". His father must have told her for a reason. "Let's, let's get out of here".

...

He chucked their bags back on and putting up their hoods, they made their way through the house to the back door.

The back door was locked. Which only convinced Fox more that the Englishman had seen him. Why was he helping him escape, when the other was so set on finding him?

Using the key that they hid in the penguin shaped ceramic pot, he opened the back door, deciding to keep it just in case, before locking it from the outside.

Now what?

She still gripped onto him like a lifeline.

Everyone else has let her down.

But how was he going to get them out...?

She couldn't exactly jump the fence.

... Or maybe not jump, just climb over... There were people allegedly patrolling the fr- he saw a flash light and quickly pulled them against the wall.

"... all they do is tell us to watch the front. And what, suddenly its our fault that they disappeared. Nowhere in our instructions did they say to apprehend". The flash lights weren't pointed in their direction, against the back fence instead. But they were getting closer. So he brought her down to a crouch, hoping they wouldn't turn their flash lights around. "It's darker then Tutankhamen's tomb out here. How where we supposed to know it was them?"

The other flash light hummed in agreement. "Give me a leg up"

"You think they went over the fence?"

"Nothing but trees it looks to me. Perfect hiding place"

"Who will watch the front?"

"They're not going to be out front. We would've seen them".

"I think I'll stay out front, just in case Old Smokey comes back. That guy gives me the besiegers"

"I know what you mean".

This was their chance.

Standing up, Fox slowly but quickly tiptoed them around the corner of the house, before hurrying down the grass of the driveway. He turned them left instead of right as the road was more covered. Trees encased the whole of the cul-de-sacs around these streets and Fox knew them pretty much off by heart, as long as he didn't go too far in. He knew what he needed to do. He needed to get a car. He needed to drive exactly like his father had told him, and far away from those men who were trying to track them down. And he had a plan on how to obtain one.

...

They had been walking between houses and foliage for about five minutes before he started to slow down. He knew she wasn't going to like what he was going to do next.

"Don't leave me", she gasps desperately, sensing his next moves.

"I'm not! ... Not for long", weakly, as she embraces him tightly. Her bump pushing into him. He must be getting used to it because he doesn't lurch away. "I need to get us a car. But I can only walk so far with you".

"I can walk", she whispers against his chest. "Please, don't leave me". Pushing her nose into him. Her fingernails digging into his back through his layers.

She is really quite pathetic, he thinks. Well pathetic isn't the right word, he quickly resolves, but he can't think of the word right now. She tucks neatly under his arm pit. She would weigh practically nothing without her bump. When he saw the blood on the corner of her shoes at the station, he hadn't thought he had seen shoes as small on anyone but a child.

He sighs, and looks at the house in front of them.

...

Pulling out the spare hoodie. He wraps it around the brick sized rock he found amongst the trees. He hopes it doesn't make too much noise. It doesn't make that much noise in the movies. He also hopes that they don't have a dog ... or any kind of pet that would alert them of an intruder.

It takes four hits before he gives it enough force to even crack the glass of the veranda back door. She's stood beside him with their bags, finally relenting his freedom from her clutches.

He waits a minute but doesn't hear anything.

He decides to use his fist this time. Unwrapping the rock and wrapping his hand. After a few minutes of slowly prizing his hand through, he makes a forceful punch and the glass falls - luckily cushioned by carpet, but they still both run for cover behind the willow tree in the back garden.

But no lights turn on.

No one calls out.

Ditching the hoodie, and telling her to stand guard. The glass cuts his wrist as he forces it through to lift up the lock.

Trying the handle, the door miraculously opens! He spares a moment to inspect his wrist, but its not bleeding too badly. They have to be quick. He doesn't know what alarm system this house has.

He signals her to follow and she does. Her hand dutifully gripping onto the material of his hoodie while he searches for the kitchen. There is always a phone in the kitchen.

But he finds better.

A cell phone on the kitchen island.

He is dialing the number for a cab - a different company - when he realises he can no longer _feel_ her behind him.

Fear seizes him and he assumes the worst.

Doing a 360 on the spot, she isn't in the room either!

"Where are you?" Fox whispers loudly, exiting the kitchen into the hall.

And then tiptoeing through the hall and past the stairs.

She was literally _right_ behind him. Where could she have-

But he notices the light on in a room off the hall. Toilet most probably. He puts his ear to the door, and hears the faint sound of peeing.

Pregnant women are known to pee a lot.

Relieved over finding her, his brain registers there is an impatient voice on the other line and quickly gives the address they are at for immediate pick up.

Putting the cell back on the kitchen counter, he makes sure there is a very unimpressed face greeting her when she steps out.

She looks at him alarmed.

"I don't leave you, and you don't leave me without telling each other. Got it"

She nods.

His heart is still in his throat.

"Let's get out of here. The cab's on its way".

...

While they sit in the shrubbery waiting for the cab - a message was sent to the cell, saying it would be twenty minutes - she reaches for his wrist that got cut.

"It's just a scratch", he says. Even though it isn't. He should probably get it bandaged.

She digs into one of the bags and pulls out a small water bottle and washes the blood off.

It stings, but he isn't going to show her.

She then pulls out a first aid kit.

"Where did you get that?" he asks.

"It was in the bathroom", she whispers.

"You got it for me?" Oddly touched.

She nods. The sun is starting to break through and he can see the faint smile on her face. She is too busy concentrating on his wrist, so he figures she won't see his if he smiles.

By the time the cab arrives, she has his wrist bandaged, they've shared some water, and he has both bags on his back again.

Her hand holds his through the short drive.

She's probably hungry, he thinks. That is another thing that pregnant women do a lot.

Not too long though, the cab pulls up outside Sarah's house and after he has paid the man, and they are walking hand in hand up the driveway. Fox thinks, being Sarah's boyfriend really did have benefits. Like how he knew they kept a spare key to the house, and where they kept it. Like how he knew the code once they were inside so that the alarm didn't go off. Knew where they hung all their spare keys. Sarah's father's car was the closest to the garage door - the last to return, the first to leave - which considering it must be near five in the morning, didn't give them that much time as he knows from the times he has snuck into Sarah's room, her father's alarm went off at 6:15.

Fox even knew the combination to open the automatic garage door.

Did he care he was doing this to Sarah? No not really, he was ashamed to say. So much about this day. This evening. These last few hours had left Fox in a state where he would not be restful until he had left the state of Maryland. Maybe not until they were in New York, or even better Ontario. That was what he had planned. Drive North because everyone expects you to drive South. Canada, he only thought of while he was putting in the code to open Sarah's garage, but Canadian's are always famed for being nice and understanding. And that was exactly what they both needed at that moment.

Regardless, driving in Sarah's father's dark blue Ferrari F12, Fox definitely felt more in control. He knew he would have to get rid of the car soon, as there was _noway_ Sarah's father wouldn't report his pride and joy missing the _moment_ he realised. But that wouldn't be for atleast another two hours. With his foot down, Fox could be across the state border by then.

He nodded his head.

He was in control.

And she looked good in the passenger seat next him.

... A curious feeling he had never felt before was buzzing through him, that he didn't want to dwell on too much. Resting a hand on her knee, he feels her jump a mile.

"Sorry. You can sleep if you want", he says, even though she looks too wired. "We'll stop off at the nearest KFC we see and get you something to eat".

Her eyebrows furrowed but she nodded.

"Or McDonalds if you prefer?"

She shrugs.

"You do eat burgers and fries right?"

She shrugs her right shoulder, a smile curling.

"Come on", stealing a glance at her, but not for too long as he doesn't want to make the same mistake. He should probably have both hands on the steering wheel too, and he rectifies this. "Please tell me you have eaten at one of those places"

She purses her lips and then grins widely, showing her fluorescent green braces.

He lingers on them for a moment, before returning to the road.

She's like a little sister.

And yet, she was very pregnant.

A confusing juxtaposition.

There is nothing remotely promiscuous about her. She doesn't have a woman's body that would attract boys. She looks innocent. Untouched. The way she jumped when he rested a hand on her knee...

"You can trust me you know", glancing at her again, so she knows he's sincere. "I'm not going to hurt you", returning to the road. "I'm not going to let anyone else hurt you either. Or, or your baby".

He glances back at her, and she is looking at her bump with indifference, almost distaste. But then something softens in her eyes and she rubs it lovingly.

He turns back to the road - and just in time to notice the red light at the crossroads.

He needs to concentrate on the road, and keeping them safe. The sun will be up soon and the car will be reported missing.

Uploaded: 22/6/16  
Edited: 25/6/16

_I know - loong time since I updated. But with the Nanny Files finished, this is on the list to finish next. I don't think I made Fox an only child ... I did re-read through, but if I am mistaken, let me know. You are all more vigilant on these things then I am.  
Hope you enjoyed! Let me know your views. Until next update!_


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